In Memorium
by Wings Of Sanguine
Summary: After Sarah fakes her death in order to get away from Vic, Felix is left to do as he pleases. The day he planned her wake howver, he gets a visit from a strange man who tells him even stranger things. (DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR ORPHAN BLACK OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS)
1. Chapter 1

There was a loud bang on the door, disrupting Felix from his work, once again. He had a paintbrush in his mouth, a palette balanced precariously in his left hand while he had another paint brush in his right and was busy swiping away at the canvas. The walls were decorated with graffiti- in fact, his entire house was like that on the outside as well. And he liked it that way- he was, after all, an artist. Rolling his eyes, he paced the palette and brush down gently on the small table by the couch, removing the brush from his mouth and letting it drop to the floor.

"I swear to God, if it's you again, Vic, I will cut off your balls and shove them down your throat!" he threatened, sweeping his hair from out of his eyes. He had one of those cropped emo cuts that his sister, Sarah thought looked good on him. Of course, she was not his real sister- they were foster siblings, him being the "uncle" of Sarah's biological daughter Kiera, whose father was probably standing outside his door for the millionth time. The banging continued, relentless. _I swear, he'll dent the door if he keeps banging like that,_ Felix thought as he stomped over to the door, pulling the bolt out of the wall and sliding the door open.

"You fucking bastard, I told y-" he started, then stopped short when he saw the person who knocked was not Sarah's abusive boyfriend Vic, but a wrinkly old man with thin rimmed glasses. He had a long white beard tied at the end with a set of jingling bells, his white hair tied into a loose ponytail. He wore purple robes that swept the floor, lined with gold thread.

"Oh," he said, "you're not that fucking bastard," Felix said, pursing a full set of lips with slight embarrassment- he really had to stop assuming the person at his door was always Vic. The old man shook his head, the bells tinkling a lovely melody, almost like a flute.

"No, I am not him," the old man said, "but I want to tell you, it took forever to realize that you lived here. A very expressive home it is as well, with all the vandalism and paintings." The old man looked past his shoulder at the piece Felix had been working on before being interrupted, "and who is that lovely young lady, may I ask?" Felix glanced over his shoulder at the canvas, which he was putting finishing touches on. Sarah's upper body was painted in grays and blacks and whites, surrounded by yellows and browns, some green and blue hidden in here and there. Felix gulped, a bit nervous.

"My sister, Sarah," he answered, then quickly corrected himself, "well, not really my sister- she was my foster sister." The old man nodded. The boy's voice was somewhat a mix of being low and high pitched, the high being a bit more dominant over the low- not in a bad way though, It suited him well, was Dumbledore's decision when first hearing him yell earlier through the door.

"Did she find a family, for you to say she was, meaning she used to be your foster sister?" the old man asked, glancing at the other pieces of work, and some of the furniture. Overall, the place looked like a dump and smelled strangely of a mix of pungent sweetness and chemicals. _He certainly has interesting taste,_ he thought, locking his gaze on Felix's couch, which was made of chrome and had a white furry cushion set on it, leopard print pillows resting on either side.

"She's…." he trailed off, scratching the back of his neck, then said, "wait- why am I telling all this to a stranger?" He said it more to himself than to the man, somewhat scolding himself for telling things to someone he won't ever see again. Then to the man, he asked, "what exactly do you want? Because I don't have the coke, and all my needles were wasted by Vic The Dick just last week. I'll have to get new ones, but it might be a while before I actually do, since-" The man held up a wrinkled hand, cutting him off.

"To be honest, young man, I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, his shoulders shaking with almost silent laughter. Felix raised an eyebrow, confused- what did he mean? Everyone knew what needles and coke meant these days.

"Okay, then what is it you want? I need to get that painting-" Felix pointed to the painting the man asked about, "- ready for a wake in what-" he checked his watch "- five minutes? Maybe less?" The man reached into his robes, producing an envelope. His leathery hands were shaky as he handed it to him, "Well, this is for you, young man. Good day to you." Felix snatched it from the man, sliding the door shut, essentially trying to slam it as hard as he could, for he was still pissed off at Vic. The paper was crinkly and thin against his skin, feeling almost like wax. There was a large red H sealed in red wax on the back.

"What the….?" Felix asked himself, as the letter seemed to slightly hover in his palm. His eyes widened, shocked- 'What the hell?" The wax seal ripped from the paper, the triangle top of the envelope forming what Felix would only be able to describe as a mouth. What he was only able to describe as lips began to move, the wax dripping from the paper like blood dripping from a pair of fangs. Breathing deeply, he turned, picking up his paint brushes gingerly between his index finger and thumb, sticking one in his mouth. Picking up the palette from the table, he began mixing the paints, which consisted mainly of yellows and whites. T_he area around her head is almost golden, so I should probably make the tone on the rest of the canvas a lighter yellow…. _Gently, he tapped the bristles against the wood, swirling paint on the horsehairs. The paintbrush in his mouth began splintering a little as he bit down on it hard- he heard a small crack, but ignored it. Although it hadn't really sounded like a crack, it was more of a clearing of someone's throat, as if they were impatient or very competitive and shit, like the soccer-mom version of Sarah was. He shuddered just thinking about it. Even if they were all dead and gone, he still couldn't get over the fact that his foster sister had eight other versions of her around the world. He jumped a there was a sudden intake of breath, followed by a knock at his door again. Rolling his eyes, he glanced at the door to his loft, then went back to his work, trying his best to ignore it completely.

"Ahem," came a low growl. Felix shook his head, biting harder on the paintbrush. It couldn't be the letter. _First off, Felix, letters don't hover in midair, and they definitely don't clear their throats for they have none_, he thought as he slashed deep yellows across the canvas trying to detract himself from what was floating behind him.

"Listen, kid," he heard a voice say, "I can't float here all day, I have my own children to attend to- which reminds me, have you seen them? They all ran off- oh I hope they're okay! Hurry it up with whatever it is you're doing and start packing!" Felix sighed, not realizing he had kept is shoulders slouched until he actually had to push them down, cracking his neck by pressing against it with his slender hands. Placing his supplies on the table, he pulled the paintbrush from his mouth and let it fall to the floor.

"Let's see, what am I packing?" he asked the letter raising an eyebrow.

"Your robes, your quills,- you do have a wand, don't you? Oh! We'll have to get you a pet from the Owlery later…." the envelope began to go through a list of items, none of which had any interest to him, nor did he actually need it. He nodded, as if agreeing, then snapped his fingers.

"I know what I need," he said, a smug grin on his face.

"What is it dear?" the envelope asked almost eagerly. With a flash, Felix snatched the letter from midair and reached into hi pocket, producing a lighter. Flicking off the cap, he let the flame develop, holding it up to the paper. He watched it lick the waxy old paper until there was nothing left but a scrap. Flicking it off his hands, he threw the now burnt letter in the garbage can, picking up the paintbrush off the floor and sticking it back in his mouth. Scooping up his supplies, he continued to paint his sister's memorial portrait. Soon he was lost within the painting, letting the colors take him through the canvas, telling him where to blend, where to scumble, trying to make the piece as much Sarah as it was himself. He was working with a very watery blackish gray when there was a sudden loud banging on the door, making him jump, nearly spilling the paint all over the floor and his new clothes which he and just bought from the new boutique downtown. He began to put everything down but then thought, _you know what? Screw it. I'll ignore them _and went back to painting the piece. The knocking though was continuous. Felix rolled his eyes as they knocked again, shaking his head.

"Can i never get any peace around here?" he muttered through the brush as the knocking sounded again. With the brush still in his mouth, supplies on hand, he briskly walked to the door and fumbled with the lock until he pulled it out, sliding the door open.

"Oh my god, Vic, will you sto-" he began, then stopped when he saw that it was still not Vic The Dick, but short plump woman with a mane of red hair next to a man who had a mane of the same color. The man gave a small wave and a smile. Felix poised the paintbrush he held in his hand, executing the perfect stereotypical gay man limp wrist.

"Again, you aren't Vic The Dick," Felix said, somewhat bored and mostly annoyed, "so I'll say it again- stop wasting my time!" He went to slam the door, but the man stopped it as he went, pulling it back open.

"I don't know who you're talking about but I'll have you know there are children in the building!" the woman scolded him with a wagging finger. Felix rolled his eyes.

"That's great," he said sarcastically, "please let the door hit you on the way out!" He turned his back to them and walked back into the loft, reaching out to connect paintbrush with canvas once more. As he worked, the woman and man- probably her husband, entered. Felix heard the door slide open and click shut.

"I said get out," he demanded. The woman crossed her arms over a large bosom.

"And what if I don't want to?" she asked defiantly cocking her head like a brave puppy set to destroy a new chew toy.

"If you don't, that's called breaking and entering," Felix said, putting on a sugary voice, "and since you are in my loft disturbing me while I'm trying to work, i can have you arrested for that. Understand?" He gave her a mocking smile as she gazed around the loft, at all the artwork and graffiti, paintings and sketches and sculptures.

"Do you make a living off this stuff?" asked a boy who looked to be about seventeen with a mop of red hair similar to the man and woman's. He was looking at the sculptures Felix had made of Sarah's gravestone. He reached out and ran his fingers gently along her name. Felix shivered, feeling a chill run down his spine. The boy then asked, "Who's Sarah?"

"P-please don't touch anything," Felix said, ushering the boy away from the sculpture and sitting him on his couch.

"Hey, what's this?" a girl asked, a curtain of red hair down her back. She was pointing to a piece of graffiti he had made when he was high. It was a king's crown that was covered with blood and his name tagged at the bottom of it.

"Please- I just did that piece recently, it's still drying," Felix warned, pushing her at her brother. Felix shot a glance at the two adults who he figured were the parents of these children.

"Hey, what's this photo?" asked another red head, about eighteen years old. He was holding a picture of Sarah and Felix playing with Sarah's daughter Kiera. The parents exchanged glances, the woman nervously playing with the sleeve of her dress. Felix snatched the photo from his hands and plonked the frame on the dresser, giving him a stern look.

"Ron, Ginny- go outside with Daddy, okay?" she said, pulling Ginny and Ron off the couch and pushing the at their father.

"Whoa- look it this beauty, George," a boy said to the one who was holding the frame. George joined his brother over at the painting Felix was working on- _The memorial portrait of Sarah….. _

"Who is it, you think?" George asked his brother, nudging him. His brother laughed.

"Yeah, and why are her eyes crossed out with x's?"

"Dunno, Fred, wanna go ask the artist?" George joked.

"How much is it worth though?" Fred asked, looking at the painting that was unfinished. Felix rubbed his eyes, smudging his eyeliner. The mother had a worried look as she glanced at Felix's reaction.

'Who is that?" he repeated, "what do you mean? And don't touch anything! Who the fuck are you people anyway?!" He lunged at the twins just as Fred went to touch the went paint. He threw them at the couch, making them knock into the dresser in the process, kicking up clouds of dust. The mother waved it away from her nose as she watched her sons collapse on the couch. Fred was looking at the gravestone sculpture Ron was reading earlier.

"Sarah's a pretty name," he commented, "don't you agree, George?"

"Blimey, yes," he said nodding, "and hey- the girl in the photo and the girl in the painting look eerily similar- are they identical? Are they even related?"

"Heck- what if it's one person?" Fred said, then put on a mischievous grin, "is this a shrine for some girl you have a weird obsession for?" They waited eagerly for an answer. Felix's shoulders shook.

"Some girl…" he laughed, shaking his head. These people….. "you have no idea." Falling to his knees, he opened the bottom drawer of the dresser, taking out the bag he and hidden from Vic a week earlier. His lifeline, practically, he had used so much more if it then he used to after Sarah died- officially, that is. She had faked her own death before in order to get out of her relationship with Vic, so she and Felix and Kiera could run away and live together, to start anew. He shoved his hand in the drawer, his fingers waiting to get pricked by the all too familiar feel off the needle- but there was none. Then he remembered.

"Shit!" he shouted as he pounded his fist on the floor. He felt himself already shaking from withdrawal- he needed it and he needed it now. He slammed the drawer shut and shoved his hand in the bag, immersing it in white powder. He didn't care if he did this in front of strangers who might rat on him to the police- they were the ones who broke into his home in the first place. The twins watched him as he licked the stuff off his fingers, relishing the taste. The mother took them by the arm and dragged them off the couch, pushing them out the door.

"Hey, what's he doing?" Fred asked as they were pulled to the door.

"Yeah, can we try some?" George asked, "it's a Muggle thing, right?"

"Just because your father works with Muggle items doesn't mean you can!" the mother snapped, "we've obviously upset the poor boy so let's get out!" She heard him yelling from inside, "Damn right! How dare you break in! I'll call the police, you know!" The red haired woman slammed the door behind her as he ran at them, hands outstretched, tears streaming down his face.

"Well, that was fun," The twins said after a few minutes of silence.

"You twits!" their mother cried, "go think about what you did! You've bought havoc upon him!" The twins rolled their eyes, saying she did the same thing by going in without permission. Her answer was to smack them with her purse and send them to the car, where the others were waiting. After they had gone, the woman hesitantly approached the door again, her palm flat against the metal of the frame. Leaning over, she pressed her ear against the door, trying her best to hear what was going on inside the loft, though it was muffled.

"Sarah…." Felix moaned, followed by a few sniffs- probably that strange white stuff, she thought as she listened to him cry. There was the sound of footsteps as Felix walked towards the door, and it sounded as if he was dragging something with him. She jumped and took a step back as she heard him fiddle with the lock, then slide the door open. His eyes went wide when he saw her standing there. His eyeliner was running in streaks down his face and he had patches of white powder dotting his face. In one hand he carried a hammer, and tucked under his arm was the painting the twins were looking at.

"What?" he asked with a shrug of his shoulders, "you haven't seen an artist get his work defiled by a bunch of kids belonging to a strange couple who randomly barged into his loft after he receives a weird letter from an old man with bells tied to his beard?" The woman undid his fingers from the handle of the hammer and she tossed it t the floor. She went to rub his arm, but he jerked away, stalking past her, painting still tucked under his arm. He snapped his fingers at her without stopping, "Lock the fucking door!" She slid the door shut, leaving the lock alone since sit was on the inside and she wasn't willing to go back in, and ran after him- more like waddled, for she had put on some weight in the past few months.

"I'm sorry about them," she began apologizing as she caught up with him, "really, they're just kids, they don't know any better-" He swiveled on his heels, lean in into her menacingly.

"Really?B-because they looked old enough to know not to touch my supplies! They looked old enough not to touch my personal belongings! And they most definitely looked old enough not to touch the memorial painting I did for my dead sister whose daughter doesn't know because Sarah was never home because she was trying to get out of an abusive relationship!" Felix panted, realizing he and been screaming once he had finished. The woman had a frightened look on her face mixed with what he could only call empathy, or sympathy- one of those things.

"I don't want your pity," he spit, shoving the painting at her, "and you can take my sister with you, wherever you're going. Be careful because it's still wet." Shoving his hands in his pockets, he stomped off in the direction of her family's car, throwing a punch to the hood as he passed. She trotted to the car, panting in hand as she watched him angrily go.

"Molly, what was that about?" her husband asked as she climbed in the passenger seat, "and why do you have that boy's artwork with you?"

"This was the work the boys were looking at," she said, "and I am very disappointed in them."

"Well, it was nice of him to give it to you, even if he was a bit rough about it," Arthur said as he went to start the engine.

"Do you want to know what this is, guys?" Molly said, turning around to see their faces.

"Isn't that the painting we were looking at?" George asked.

"Yes, and you want to know what else this is?" Molly asked sternly.

"What?" they waited eagerly for the answer, their faces bright. Fred and George were holding each other's hands in anticipation.

"A memorial," she said, raising her eyebrows.

"A memorial- to whom?" Ron asked. Molly gestured to the woman in the painting, her eyes crossed out with x's. She was smiling as if receiving the best thing in the world, her brown hair looking as if it was blowing in the wind.

"Her?" Ginny answered, jutting her chin at the woman. Molly nodded.

"And do you know who this is?" she asked menacingly. Ron and Ginny shrank bak with fear, the twins exchanging nervous glances before shaking their heads that they did not know who this was. Molly sighed, preparing herself to tell them.

"This is a memorial to his dead sister, Sarah," she explained. Arthur looked out the window, watching Felix as he stomped down the block, his arms hugging himself from the cold.

"Is he not wearing a coat?" Arthur asked, pointing to his moving figure. Molly looked out the window to see he was indeed not wearing a coat.

"No, he's not," she said, pulling her seatbelt across her chest and clicking it. The kids gave each other guilty looks as the engine purred, then roared to life, the wheels screeching on the pavement. Felix turned around to glare at the car, squinting to see it properly.

"Bloody nuts," he muttered to himself, watching as the car began driving in his direction. Felix turned, continued walking, If he ignored them they might go away- since yelling and screaming at them didn't work, and asking them nicely was totally out of the question. He turned his gaze away as the car pulled up next to him, chugging along slowly. The driver's window rolled down and the red head man stuck his head out.

"You cold, son?" he asked. Felix ignored him, hugging himself so tightly, he was nearly squeezing himself. The car continued to trot slowly next to him.

"Come on, looks like you need it- you look extremely pale," the man said. _That's from the coke, you idiot_, Felix thought as he glared at him and started walking faster. The car followed, "Please? We'd like to apologize." Felix abruptly stopped walking, a cold breeze hitting his back, making him shiver. Another window rolled down and one of the twins stuck his head out saying, "You look pale, come on, kid. And we're sorry about your paintings." Hesitantly, Felix grabbed the handle of the door and perched himself on the edge of the seat, his back ramrod straight. The shirt he was wearing looked like a second skin, the black fabric stretched tightly across his chest, tucked into the narrow waist of his dark maroon colored jeans. Bracelets jangled on his wrist, made of string and beads. His pants were cuffed and tucked into his black combat boots.

"It's not me you should apologize to," Felix said, sweeping his cropped hair out of his face, "it's my sister. I'm doing this for her." Crossing his arms, he stared at the passing scenery as he began to drive. Molly nodded, "Alright then, let's get going and get you warmed up- I'll set up the couch for you, all righty dear?" Felix shrugged and ignored he question.

"Okay then," she said, carefully balancing the painting on her lap, "Arthur, let's go home. We have a guest, you know!"


	2. Chapter 2

Harry and Hermione were waiting patiently in the Weasly's living room, playing a game of wizard's chess. Hermione was currently winning as usual, with the majority of Harry's pieces in her captivity.

"Knight to E5," Hermione commanded her chess piece. The cracked porcelain knight moved in a sharp L, resting at its new position. Harry was about to command his pawn to kidnap her knight when they heard the door open and in walked Arthur Weasly, his coat tucked under his arm, followed by his wife and their kids. Soon the house was crowded, filled with one too many people.

"Did he come in?" Molly asked, peering over her children's heads, then waved at Hermione and Harry, saying, "Hermione, dear, I'll need you to share Ginny's room for tonight, okay?"

"Okay," Hermione said. She enjoyed Ginny's company anyway, since Ginny was the only daughter in the Weasly family and she wanted to get away from Harry and Ron's antics sometimes, "But why, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh, we found one," Moly answered, placing the painting gently on the easel she had Fred run out and get earlier. They looked at it: a woman's upper body, expertly detailed, surrounded by hues of yellow with random dashes of green and blue, her body done in black, white, and gray.

"Found what?' Harry asked, scanning the painting of the smiling woman, "and where did you get that painting from?"

"We found a wizard!" Molly exclaimed, "although he's probably mad at us for inviting ourselves into his loft…." Her face was red with embarrassment as she waddled into the kitchen, "Arthur, please get the boy to come inside! It's dreadfully cold and he didn't bring his jacket and I won't have him spending the night in that crappy vehicle!" Arthur tossed his coat on the couch next to Harry and rolled his eyes, opening the door to be greeted by a brisk gust of wind, then trekking outside to the driveway. They heard some curses probably from him, Harry thought as Arthur came in, dragging Felix in by the arm. Arthur's hands looked like they belonged to Hulk when it was closed around the crook of his elbow. Felix jerk his arm away, his eyes falling on his painting of Sarah.

"You put it up?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper, "you actually kept it?"

"Well, yeah," Ron said, "you worked on it, don't you want people to display it?"

"I assume Sarah would want it to be displayed," Felix said, "but that painting is not meant to be seen by the public. It was for her especially, to remember her in death as she was in life. Or how her clones were as well. I only met three of them so far. Beth and The German died already. And now her." He cast his eyes at the floor, forlorn and teary.

"What do you mean clones? Did she have sisters?" Hermione asked, watching as he swept his hair out of his eyes. His cheeks were streaked with black eyeliner, probably from crying. Felix shook his head, biting his lower lip.

"No, Sarah was an only child- my foster sister," he explained. Molly murmured, "you are orphans? How sad. I'm so sorry."

"We found out that she was a clone when she took the identity of Beth- the one who killed herself- because she was trying to get me and her out of an abusive relationship with her boyfriend, Vic. Someone was performing a scientific experiment to see if they were able to clone people successfully- and they did. That person decided to cover it up by killing them off, and the scientist died herself, so I never found out who did it." Harry stood up and went to look at the painting. It didn't move, just stood there, looking like a pretty portrait of Sarah.

"Do you mean they used Polyjuice Potion?" he asked. Felix blinked, furrowing his brow in confusion. Out of the group, Harry was the only one who knew what Felix meant, having gone to a Muggle school when he was younger- same with Hermione.

"Excues me, what?" he asked, "did you say Polyjuice Potion?" Harry nodded.

"Yeah," he said, "it's like cloning, but instead of scientifically altering your DNA you drink a strand of hair from the person you're trying to copy and put it in a potion. Thus, you look like that person." Felix looked at him with bewilderment- what was he saying?

"Um, last time I checked, there was no such thing as this Polyjuice Potion, whatever it is," Felix shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

"But there is," Harry said.

"Do you have any proof of this?" he asked. Harry shrugged.

"No, but we could make some and test it out," he answered.

"Harry, it takes days to make- and we don't have the supplies needed anyway!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Oh well," Felix mocked being upset, "I guess we won't find out. Thus, it doesn't exist. End of story, thank you!"

"Listen, it's real- Barty Crouch Jr. used it to pose as Mad- Eye for a year, remember?" Harry said hopefully, since the story had been in the paper for sun a long time, _Surely he heard about it_, Harry thought. Felix rolled his eyes.

"And you expect me to know who those people are?" he scoffed, giving him a questioning look.

"Oh, right, sorry," Harry apologized, realizing that Felix indeed had no idea who these people were.

"Exactly," Felix said condescendingly, "so stop wasting my time and please take me back to my loft- I don't want Vic trashing all my hard work just to find the coke that Sarah stole from him when she tried to get him to stop smoking, and she hid it in my house."

"It isn't a waste of time," Ron said, joining the conversation, "and besides, he can't be that bad-" Felix sighed, pulling the V-neck of his shirt even lower than it already was, and it was already pretty low. Bruises dotted his skin, some starting to yellow, others still fresh. Ron gaped at them, his eyes darting from each one, his mouth moving silently while he counted. Felix rolled his eyes, grabbing the hem of his short and pulling it out from being tucked in his pants.

"This is how great he is," Felix said through gritted teeth, pulling the shirt over his head. There was a collective gasp from the kids as he balled up the shirt and held it in his fist. Along with bruises, there were some cuts- some fresh, others old scars. Felix held his arms out, spinning around to give them a view of his back. It was the same, littered with bruises and cuts. He had band-aids on some that were recent. Hermione pointed to his side.

"What's that?" she asked, "that wound there?" Felix glanced at his side, his brown eyes scanning the gash that was starting to scab over.

"Oh, this old thing?" he asked, tracing it with his finger.

"Yes, what is that?" she asked.

"Well, wouldn't you like to know?" he asked, giving a sarcastic smile, plopping himself back on the couch, "I received that from good ol' Vic, who this one thinks is not so bad." He jabbed his thumb at Ron, who could only stare- all of those wounds! The bruises!

"Okay, well, how?" Hermione asked, "I mean, it looks like you got punched and scraped pretty badly, but what about that one?"

"Well, when I first met him, he was a great guy- but then he began to do weird things, things he wouldn't normally do, like yell at my sister for leaving a dirty dish on the table when they finished dinner, or forgetting to put out the trash every once in a while," Felix began.

"Sounds like the twins," Ron commented. Hermione gave him a glare and Felix continued, "and then one day- I believe it was last month in like, January or something, Sarah told him she was pregnant- about nine months. We had both been noticing, and he knew, he was just waiting for her to tell him. During her pregnancy, he kept commenting when she wasn't in the room, saying that she wasn't as attractive as she once was, she was fat, she was stupid for getting pregnant- all this horrible stuff. He said he would have beat her for it, but since she was pregnant, it would disrupt the baby's development. Meanwhile, in order to get out his frustrations, he cornered me." Hermione rubbed her mouth gently with her fingers, scratching her skin.

"So while she was pregnant he would beat me up, scratch me, anything to hurt me in ways he couldn't hurt Sarah. And then their daughter, Kiera was born. She was the sweetest thing, but they weren't able to take care of her because Vic kept spending all the money on prostitutes and drugs. And he got mad at Sarah for buying the baby formula- formula! So she sent the baby to a woman who ran a foster home- the same woman who raised us, actually."

"And?" Hermione asked, squeezing Ron's hand.

"Well, Sarah decided she wanted him to stop smoking weed all the time, so she stole his drugs and hid them in my house, then went to Mrs. S's house for a little bit," Felix said, "and so Vic came to my loft. I was busy working, so I didn't answer the door right away, and when I did, he grabbed me by the throat, saying he was going to kill me if Sarah didn't return his cocaine. Of course, I said something stupid and he pulled out a butcher's knife, like the big fancy ones they use to cut the meat up in the shop, and he got me good."

"That's terrible," Ron said, "I didn't realize, I-"

"Yes, well, it seems like you don't realize a lot of things and I haven't known you for very long, so that says something," Felix interrupted.

"Did you try to find help?" Harry asked, "didn't you ever think of going to the police?"

"Sarah and I were doing illegal things as well, selling coke, smoking coke, we basically worked and lived off the black market in order to survive," Felix said, "so going to the police was not an option for us. And all Sarah wanted was to be able to show Kiera that she was a good mother, that she would finally be able to take care of her. And I could tell that she was really trying, she was trying so hard, for Kiera and for me. But that was a while ago."

"How long ago?" Hermione asked.

"Ten months," Felix said, "we had left Kiera at Mrs. S's for the night, and disappeared for ten months instead." He rubbed his forehead, sighing heavily and baking his head.

"Have you seen Vic lately?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Felix said, "ever since Sarah's death, he comes crying about how great she was and how he wanted to make up for everything he had done, which I knew was bullshit because he never apologizes for anything. And then he attacks me, usually while drunk."

"Isn't that harassment?" Hermione asked, "physical abuse? You need to tell someone!"

"Did you just figure that out?" Felix asked, "and i just told you guys, didn't I?"

"No, you need to tell someone who's higher up on the social chain- someone like Dumbledore- in fact, tell Dumbledore yourself!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Not to be rude, but who's Dumbledore?" Felix asked.

"The Headmaster at Hogwarts," Hermione said, "he's this old man who has long white hair and beard and ties the beard with small bells- he's usually seen wearing purple robes." Felix's eyes widened, his brain flashing back to earlier when an old man was at his door. _Oh, shit,_ he thought, picturing the purple robes and bells. And he and thought it was Vic.

"Um, about that…." Felix tittered nervously, "I've already met the man then."

"Really?"

"Yep, he came to my loft a few minutes before you guys, and he gave me a letter. Of course, I thought it was Vic, coming back for the millionth time, so I kind of threatened him…." He bit his lip, trailing off.

"What did you say?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms. Boys were always foul when it came to words, using a curse or derogatory term in every other sentence. Harry and Ron and done it a few times as well.

"I said if he didn't go away I would chop off his balls and shove them down his throat…." he repeated what he said, scratching his head.

"You are an idiot," Hermione exclaimed, snatching the shirt from Felix's hand and swatting him with it. Felix raised his hands in self-defense as it snapped against his skin.

"Don't snap shirts at me!" I had a very traumatic childhood!" he exclaimed. He grabbed it from Hermione and slipped it over his head, his ribs prominent under his skin as he stretched. Molly clapped her hands loudly, everyone diverting their attention.

"I think that's enough for today," she said, "so why don't we all get some sleep? Dear, you'll have to sleep on the couch tonight, since I don't have any other rooms to serve as bedrooms." Felix nodded. He didn't mind sleeping on the couch- he slept on the floor back in his loft anyway after he had to sell the bed in order to buy that week's supply of food.


	3. Chapter 3

Vic slammed his fists against the door to Felix's loft again, his hands stinging form the impact. His shirt was untucked and the buttons were tucked into the wrong holes, making the shirt lopsided. His pants were at his ankles, exposing his red boxers.

"Fee, you douche!" he shouted, slurring his words, "open the fucking door!" There was no answer. Where was he? Felix knew Vic was coming over that day to get the coke he knew Sarah hid in the loft. And he was going to beat the shit out of the guy if he didn't get it. He banged on the door again, "Felix, I'll shitting kill you if you do not open this door!" There was a sudden gust of wind and he jumped, goosebumps forming on his bare legs.

"What an unstably manner to present yourself, Victor," said someone behind him, "I assure you you wouldn't like your friend to see you like that, hmm?" Vic snickered, swaying drunkenly.

"News flash, old man," he slurred, "Felix is gay and he would love a piece of this sweet action right here," Vic gestured to his dick, the outline prominent against the fabric of the boxers.

"I know Felix, and I know he would never go for the kind of man like you," the man said, stroking his white beard, "and you were dating his sister, Sarah, weren't you?" Vic sent a trail of spit to the floor.

"Yeah, so?" he asked, "what's it to you? I gotta get the coke from Felix because he's a no good rotten bastard who tried to clean me up." The old man nodded, sighing, reaching into his robes and pulling out his wand, although to Vic it looked like a wooden stick he and picked up off the ground.

"I can see why he tried," the man said, "so goodbye, Victor. I hope you have a nice day." With a wave of his wand- wooden stick, whatever Vic called it- he was enveloped in a flash of light and was gone, leaving Vic alone in the hallway.

"Fucking turd," he muttered, then went back to banging on the door, "Felix, you little shit!"


	4. Chapter 4

Felix followed Harry, Hermione and Ron across the grounds of the court yard to a ramshackle hut that was a few yards away front he Quidditch field. A monster with the wings and face f an eagle and the body of a horse was tied to a post outside, its head rumbaing through a trough. Felix gazed at it.

"What the hell kind of thing is that?" he asked as Harry and them opened the door to the hut and pulled him inside with them.

"That is Buckbeak," Ron said, "he's a Hippogriff."

"A Hippowhatto?" he asked confused, then shook his head, "you know what? Never mind. Where am I now?"

"Hagrid's hut," Hermione said as she pulled four teacups out of a cupboard, along with a teapot. The chin a was dirty and chipped, decorated with faded pink flowers that circled the bottom and tipped it over the cup and tea spilled a little on the table, steam rising into the air.

"Hermione, you're supposed to be better at doing these kind of things," Ron whined as a splash of hot tea hit his hand, burning it. Hermione rolled her eyes as she put down the teapot, handing Felix a cup. He hesitantly took it, the china warm in his hands.

"I'm sorry I forgot how to woman," she joked as she plopped herself don in a seat at the table. The dining set looked to be handmade, the table and chairs created by some wannabe carpenter. Felix took a sip of the tea, then immediately spit it out.

"Ugh! Absolutely horrific!" he exclaimed wiping his mouth with the back f his hand, "what in the world is this crap?"

"Um, pumpkin tea?" Hermione suggested. It was the most popular flavor of tea among wizards and witches young and old nowadays. Felix shook his head, sweeping the hair out of his eyes.

"Now I know why I'm not a fan of tea," he muttered, checking himself out in front of a dirty mirror he found hanging on the wall, "Hey, do any of you have eyeliner with you? I left mine back at the loft." The trio exchanged weird glances- why would a guy wear eyeliner?

"Um, no, sorry," Hermione said, watching as Felix carefully swiped his fingers around the rims of his eyes.

"Oh well," he said, walking over and pulling out a chair, "so what now?" He rested his chin on his hand, leaning his elbow on the table, his brown eyes flitting from one face to another.

"We wait for Hagrid," Harry said.

"Why don't we find something to do while we wait?" Felix asked, then he snapped his fingers, pointing at Rona and Harry, "any of you wan to dress like a girl?"

"Um, no," Harry answered, Ron shaking his head, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"Well, then that doesn't give me much to do," he gave an exaggerated sigh, then asked Hermione, "what if I dressed you like a boy?" Hermione quickly shook her head, her eyes wide with shock.

"Aren't you the boring bunch?' he asks sarcastically, crossing his legs and inspecting his nails, mumbling to himself, "I should have bought a nail file. Guess I'll go buy one later." The door creaked on its rusty hinges as Hagrid entered with Fang, the dog barking like mad and charging at Felix, nearly knocking him out of the chair.

"Down, you mangy mutt!" Hagrid ordered the animal, yanking roughly on the leash. Drool dripped from Fang's jowls, speckling the floor.

"Hello Hagrid," Hermione said with a grin, laughing at Fang, who was eyeing Felix. Hagrid nodded, running his sausage like fingers through a scraggly beard, "How are ya, Hermione?" Hermione pointed to Felix, who eyed Fang warily.

"This is Felix," she said, "the wizard we found yesterday." Felix gave Hagrid a smile, nodding his head, "Hi."

"Well hello there," Hagrid boomed, "how are ya today?"

"Fairly shitty since Vic probably wants to skin me alive and wear my flesh as a coat, but other than that I feel just dandy. And yourself?"

"Great, thanks," Hagrid said, oblivious to Felix's sarcasm, "and why are you here?" Felix glared at Ron.

"Because the smart one here decided he and his family would trash my house then whisk me away in a magical car," he answered flatly. Ron blushed, his face turning as red as his hair with embarrassment.

"Sorry," he mumbled, looking at his lap.

"Enjoyed it, huh?" Hagrid asked, the and clapped his hands, rubbing them together, "I see you broke out the tea set! Pumpkin, no?" Hermione nodded, sipping daintily. Felix scrunched his nose, shaking his head, "I'm sorry, I have no idea how you drink this…. piss, for lack of a better word."

"Oh well, everyone has their opinions," Hagrid said, "and I assume you met Buckbeak? Great guy, that one."

"Charming," Felix commented rolling his eyes, "so why am I here again?"

"Because you have magical abilities," Ron said, "duh."

"Don't give me that crap," Felix groaned, "I already went through the same thing with my sister!"

"Wouldn't you technically have more than one sister, since she was cloned, as you like to call it?" Hermione asked. Felix slammed his hands on the table.

"I told you never to bring that up!" he cried, "ever, you understand?" He stood up, knocking the chair over in the process as he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Hagrid jabbed his thumb at the door, "What's got his wand in a knot?"

"We'll explain later," Ron said, "and besides, I don't think he owns a wand anyway."

"What do you mean he doesn't have a wand? He's here isn't he?" Hagrid asked, "he won't be able to enroll in the school if he doesn't have a wand to perform magic!"

"We don't even know if he knows what magic it is he's capable of," Hermione said, "Back at his loft, we sent him a Howler, and he ignored it, trying to convince himself it wasn't real. And back at Ron's, we tried explaining what Polyjuice Potion was and he had absolutely no clue."

"Okay, and who's Vic?" Hagrid asked, picking up the fallen chair and plonking himself in it.

"His sister's boyfriend," Hermione explained, "not the best person to meet, I assure you."

"Well, have you met the man yourself?"

"No, but Felix showed us the bruises and cuts Vic gave him," Hermione explained, "the man was abusive towards his sister unit she got pregnant with a daughter whose name I think he said was Kiera. So he turned on Felix. And now Sarah- that's the sister's name- is dead. She killed herself." Hagrid nodded, his face dropping suddenly. He ran a hand awkwardly through his beard, his fingers getting temporarily caught in knots.

"Oh," he mumbled to himself, "that is bad, aint it?"


	5. Chapter 5

Felix wandered through the castle, gazing in awe at the tapestries that lined the walls, running his hand along the cold stone walls. Intricately designed light fixtures hung from the ceilings as he looked up, jumping when he felt a cold presence, as if someone was waiting for him at the end of the hallway. He just had to get away from those three for a while, clear his head a little bit. _What had they meant when they said I had magical abilities?_

"Good day to you, my boy!" said a man cheerily. He had on a leather jacket over a button down shirt and jeans with loafers. His hair hung in waves around his smiling face, brushing his shoulders. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, as if he was eternally happy.

"This is weird," Felix said to himself, trying to get past the man, but he stepped into Felix's path, stopping him in his tracks.

"It's not as weird as seeing a new face for me," the man said, "I've been in haunting this castle for three years now, and I know everyone who comes through these halls now." Felix blinked. _Did he say haunting…. as in he's dead?_ Felix wondered, squinting slightly.

"What?" he asked.

"What do you mean, 'what'?" asked the man, "don't you know a ghost when you see one?"

"You must be joking," Felix let out a nervous chuckle, "there's no such thing as ghosts." The man shook his head, then said, "Of course there is- what are you, a Muggle?" Felix opened his mouth to say something, then shut it.

"I have no idea if that was an insult or complete and utter nonsense," Felix said, "but I surely did not appreciate that tone." The ghost rolled his eyes.

"I am much older than you young man," he explained, "I have done things, seen things that you wouldn't dream of, so don't go scolding me."

"Alright then," Felix mumbled, keeping his eyes focused on the ghosts. They were dark, then he realized that the ghost itself did not have any color- only opaque blacks and grays.

"Now, have you seen my god son?" the ghost asked, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Your god son?" Felix asked. The ghost nodded.

"Yes. Have you seen him?" The ghost had somewhat of a hopeful look, as if he were about to cry.

"I don't know who your god son is," Felix answered.

"Oh! Of course, of course," the ghost laughed, then said, "you've probably heard all about him from the papers and things anyway. Harry Potter is his name." Felix arched an eyebrow- _Harry Potter?_ he thought, _I think I heard that name before…._

"Sorry, I never met the kid," Felix said with a shrug, "I guess you could try that man's hut, the one who lives on the school grounds….?" Already, he couldn't remember the big oaf's name.

"You mean Hagrid!" the ghost exclaimed. Felix nodded i agreement as the ghost continued, "that boy is always hanging around there, such a nice kid. Well, I'll be going then, so see you around…..?" He ended with a question, for Felix never introduced himself.

"Oh! Felix," Felix nodded to him and the ghost said, "Nice to meet you, Felix, Sirius is my name, Sirius Black. If you ever need anything, I'm here, okay?" Felix nodded, his breath catching in his throat as Sirius then floated through him, leaving a chill in his bones. He stood there for a few more minutes until the feeling had subsided, then began to walk slowly down the hall, shoving his hands in his pockets. He knew there was no such thing as ghosts… and yet he had just met one….

_If that Sirius Black guy was a ghost_, Felix thought,_ then maybe Sarah's floating around somewhere too..?_


	6. Chapter 6

Dumbledore paced his office, glancing at Fawkes, his phoenix. The bird had bright tail feathers, its body covered in a blaze of flames. There was a deep gurgle from the bird's throat- a cough, and a weak one at that. Fawkes was at his prime, and he was to go soon. Flames licked the perch he sat on, burning the wood to a black crisp. The door creaked on its hinges and Fawkes squawked loudly, the flames consuming his frail body, leaving nothing but a few red feathers fluttering to the floor.

"I'm sorry, Dumbledore, sir," Hagrid mumbled an apology as he came in, watching a flame rekindle and sniff at the wooden perch gently.

"Don't worry about it, Hagrid, come in," Dumbledore waved the half-giant in, "he was at his prime anyway- oh, look here?" He pointed a withered hand at the pile of ashes. Small flames licked them, there was a cloud of smoke and reappeared another Fawkes, reborn from his remains. Hagrid clapped excitedly.

"What a fine bird, Dumbledore, sir!" he praised. Dumbledore nodded, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk, "Please, have a seat.

"Huh?" Hagrid turned his attention away front eh magical bird, "oh, no thank you sir. I'll stand, if you don't mind. Don't want ter break the chair again, yeh know?" He chuckled lightly as Albus nodded, a nostalgic grin on his face.

"Alright then," he sighed, "what is it you need, my friend?"

"Oh, well, it's about this kid-"

"Felix, am I correct?" Albus interrupted. Hagrid blinked with surprise.

"Yes! How did yeh know?" he sputtered, amazed yet again by what Albus could do.

"I met him the other day," Dumbledore explained, "handed him his Hogwarts letter myself, actually. So what is it about him I must know?"

"Well, I was talking with Harry and Ron and Hermione, and Hermione said that Felix has no knowledge of magic!"

"Did she now?" Dumbledore stroked his beard, pondering the thought as Hagrid nodded, scratching at his scraggly beard.

"Yessir!" he confirmed, "she told meh that he had no idea what Polyjuice Potion was either!" Dumbledore nodded, "A bit of a dilemma then, no? I remember when I visited his home, he seemed a bit upset about my interruption."

"Upset?" Hagrid asked, "when Hermione mentioned this Sarah girl he just darn bolted from the hut and into the castle!"

"He shut his door in my face," Dumbledore said, getting a gasp from Hagrid, "but no harm in it. He was probably annoyed with her death. And the fact that she had….well, I guess you could call them secret sisters."

"What do you mean, sisters? Because Hermione mentioned something about this 'clone' thing- stupid Muggle invention, probably, since she and Harry knew all about it, bein' raised by Muggles themselves…."

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore said, "I remember when I first heard the term myself- much like Polyjuice Potion, but without drinking any actual potion." Hagrid arched an eyebrow.

"What d' you mean?" he asked, confused- Muggle items and customs were not in his best interest, so he and a hard time grasping the concept of such practices.

"You don't need to know," Dumbledore waved the notion away, "besides, it's complicated, going down to the very core of who you are genetically."

"Genetically?" he asked, being confused even further- what did all this have to do with magic and wizards and the like?

"Never mind," Dumbledore said, "but Sarah- Felix's sister- was altered the same way a Polyjuice Potion would alter you- and she found that out after three of them died. Of course, now she's dead as well, leaving Felix, her daughter, and her boyfriend, whom I had the pleasure of meeting myself." Hagrid widened his eyes, running his sausage link fingers through his beard, catching his nails in random knots.

"Really?" he asked, "Hermione said Felix told them he was abusive- showed them all his cuts an' bruises too!" Dumbledore nodded, sighing heavily.

"Alas, this is true- he was screaming threats through the door, drunk and with his trousers down," Dumbledore said, "but we won't be seeing him again, I'm sure, so there's no reason to worry about him." Hagrid sighed with relief- he didn't like the guy already and he hadn't even met him yet.

"Okay, but what are we gonna do about his magic? Does he even have any?" Hagrid returned to the main subject.

"Well, send him to Diagon Alley, of course," Dumbledore suggested.

"But what if he doesn't have any magic?" Hagrid asked with an exasperated sigh, "what then?"

"The boy has magic," Dumbledore said, "trust me."


End file.
